Mini Bio

I’m 38. I live on the outskirts of a small Montana town — one that has three stop signs, two bars, a blacksmith, and no grocery store. Sharing the hovel I call home is my husband, Brian, and our dogs, Levee and Wicket.

What’s a Suzzerpuss?

I have no idea.

My grandfather (Pappy) called my sister and I Ralph, Clyde, or Charlie, depending on the day. My grandmother (Nanny) called us both Suzzerpuss.

When I told her that I’d picked Suzzerpuss for a webpage name, she asked me what a Suzzerpuss was. So, I guess no one knows.

You Know I like My Chicken Fried

August 3, 2018/

We’ve decided to buy a full refrigerator, or a freezer-less refrigerator if you like that better. Our not-quite-full-size one can no longer handle the amount of produce we’re buying. I’d show you but it’s way out there and I’m way in here, and you really should have asked before I sat down. You’ll just have to trust me. As a kid, I abhorred folding and putting away my clothes. So I’d shove them into any drawer that wasn’t clogged, making it so when you pulled the drawer out later, clothes would spring up like a jack-in-the-box. That’s almost how our fridge is at the moment. We have reached maximum capacity.

Actually, that point has come and gone.

On top of needing more space for the produce, we also need room to prepare things for the week. Surprisingly, though we eat far less food, I spend way more time in the kitchen. Making breakfast, lunch, and dinner every day, using almost exclusively whole foods, takes a lot of time and effort. I find myself wanting to reach for a bag of cookies rather than spend forty minutes making something for myself. I’ve started spending a couple days preparing easy to grab items to help alleviate some of the work, things like yogurt parfaits, fruit cups, chicken salad for sandwiches and salads, mason jars full of carrots and celery sticks, etc. It’s been extremely helpful and cluttering. Our already maxed refridge went bulgy.

Note: The rooster here is Bento. He doesn’t know that’s his name. No one does. He wouldn’t understand even if I told him. He responds only to morning light, afternoon wind, grasshoppers, his harem, thirty second intervals, leaves, someone talking about cheesecake, trucks, pebbles clanging together, and the letter five. Don’t worry about him, he’s not going in the fridge.